What We Hunger For
by GiroGirl723
Summary: Alternate Ending to Episode 5x14 My Bloody Valentine. What if Famine did find something Dean hungered for, during their confrontation in the diner? Destiel, plain and simple. My first smut... please don't judge. I expect this to remain fairly vanilla.


_Author's note: Okay… yeesh. We all have this moment. Every single friggin' fangirl out there who's a jaded fanfiction writer._

_Our first smut piece._

_Geez, I'm nervous. *sweat sweat sweat* I mean, I've read plenty of smut and even planned a few in my head, but putting it down… yikes._

_Well, the actual smutty goodness doesn't start until the second chapter, so I have a bit of time, thank god. Anyway, this is meant to be an alternate ending to the Supernatural episode 5x14 My Bloody Valentine. Enjoy the Destiel! –GiroGirl723_

"This is taking too long."

Dean cautiously made his way into the kitchen diner, shotgun at the ready. His eyes narrowed at the sound of sizzling, and the hunter winced as he came upon a body half-submerged in boiling hot oil. _Yikes. _He looked away again, trying not to consider how dying like _that _had felt.

Then something caught his eye… A flash of a hunched-over figure. A familiar tan trenchcoat.

_What is he doing…?_ Dean wondered. "Cas!" he whispered urgently. No response. Dean tilted his head, trying to see better… he almost didn't spot the second figure behind him.

Dean spun around, smashing the demon in the face with his gun. No sooner had the bastard collapsed than he felt hands grab his shoulders. Dean slammed into a door, and everything went black.

Dean came back into consciousness to find both of his attackers dragging him into the main part of the diner. As they passed Castiel, Dean could see why his friend had been rendered immobile- the angel was hunched over a tray of raw hamburger meat, shoving handfuls into his mouth like he was a mortal man who hadn't seen food for weeks.

"Cas!" Dean called, but once again, no answer. And that was when the demons dragged him in front of Famine.

"The other Mr. Winchester," Famine said, baring a small grin.

"What did you do to him?!" Dean responded, glancing at Cas again.

The Horseman's smile widened. "You sicced your dog on me; I just threw him a steak."

"So this is your big trick?" Dean demanded, anger welling in his stomach. "Huh? Makin' people coocoo for Coco Puffs?"

Famine smiled. "It doesn't take much. Hardly a push. Ah, America- all you can eat, all the time. Consume, consume, a swarm of locusts in stretch pants! Yet you're all still starving because… hunger doesn't just come from the body, it comes from the soul."

Dean's jaw twitched. "Sorry, doesn't seem to be comin' from mine."

Famine lifted his chin to examine Dean. "Yes… I noticed that. Have you wondered why that is? How you could even walk in my presence?"

Dean gave a tense grin. "I like to think it's because of my strength of character," he taunted.

"I disagree."

The Horseman wheeled his chair towards Dean and, ever so slowly, placed his hand on Dean's chest. The hunter cried out in pain as tendrils of agony wrapped around his heart. "Yes… I see," Famine mused. "I'll just leave a bit here, then." He withdrew his hand, and most of the pain subsided- but a bit remained, leaving a dull, throbbing ache.

"What the hell did you do?!" Dean yelled.

Famine smirked. "Oh, you've done your best with this, Dean. You really have- I'm impressed. You've been able to smirk, and joke, and lie to your brother, even lie to yourself- _that's how you've been able to keep standing_- but not to me!" His words grew increasingly louder until he was yelling by the end of the sentence. Dean felt the burn begin to spread again, unbidden, and he willed his legs to hold up. "I can see inside you, Dean," Famine continued. "I can see what you want, how much you want it… how broken you are. How much you want to give up. Yet you still keep fighting."

"I have no idea in hell what you mean," Dean spat out.

Famine's eyes flickered past Dean for a moment, to a point behind him- Dean couldn't tell where. "Are you sure about that? Because I think you know, deep down, exactly what I'm talking about. I think you knew long before I even began to suspect."

Dean clenched his jaw as the burning in his chest grew stronger. "You wanted to know what I did, didn't you?" the Horseman mused. "Well, now I'll tell you: You do hunger for something. You've just hidden it away, so far back in the depths of your mind, that it almost wasn't there. But you see… I've brought it forward again."

And that was when a third voice chimed in, the voice of someone who Dean had known since childhood and was both his saving grace and worst nightmare.

"Let him go."

Dean clenched his jaw as Sam's screams came from the panic room. It was torture to hear his brother like that, but he knew it was for Sam's own good.

"It's not him in there," Dean heard Cas say next to him. "Not really."

"I know," Dean replied. Since they had defeated Famine, he hadn't said a word to anyone about his conversation with the Horseman or, more importantly, the burning in his chest. It was already getting stronger.

"Dean," Cas started. "Sam just has to get it out of his system. And then he'll be-"

"Alright, just stop," Dean cut him off. Even through his brother's screams of anguish, the most prominent thing he could sense was Cas's eyes on him, concerned, wanting to help…

"I just need some air." With that Dean strode away, and the moment he was out of earshot he kicked the floor and swore loudly.

Famine's curse was already taking its toll.

TO BE CONTINUED…


End file.
